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She stares at the way that
her voice makes patterns through
the caves and up from the river,
as well, finding all sorts
of things, gliding past where her son is
and then to that one city
that she had heard about and never
been to, where there is a ground and
the ground is made from ivy and ivory
imitations. Her son is climbing and she doesn’t want him to
fall, her sound waves through the
water and calls out to him and to
an old world god, saying that
he should be careful and not want
to be a wreck of bones.